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                                                   CANTOS

 

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                                                    Canto a Kunultüaen                               

                                                       

                                                                      

                                                                   Canto primero

 

 

Canto a Kunultüaen

                                                      

                                                     Canto primero

 

 

La plegaria

 

¡Yallemai…!                                                                                                                                            ¡Oh Glorioso Espíritu de Künultuaen!                                                                                                            he desandado los siete caminos                                                                                                                     he regresado al lugar donde reposan los huesos                                                                                        de mis muertos                                                                                                                                                  he descifrado el enigma del monje de la montaña                                                                                     he escuchado el canto divino del Hombre-Dios                                                                                         con rostro de malaquita                                                                                                                                 me he sumergido en la laguna sagrada a los pies                                                                                      del Gran Sol del Amanecer                                                                                                                              he caminado de la mano de la Gran Machi Muerta                                                                                 que me ha enseñado el camino de las caracolas                                                                                        he fumado el espíritu de las hojas del tabaco                                                                                       que unido a mi propio espíritu ha sanado el cuerpo                                                                              de los infantes moribundos                                                                                                                                  he visto florecer la higuera en Noche de San Juan                                                                                      he presenciado la muerte de mis hermanos                                                                                                 en manos de la Mala Madre                                                                                                                           he escuchado el llanto sin alma del mongólico                                                                                           he visto la luna alumbrar mis sueños                                                                                                            he conocido el alma de los chilcos azules                                                                                              he visto moverse el girasol                                                                                                                              he visto fecundarse la amapola                                                                                                                      he bebido el elíxir del recuerdo preparado en la olla                                                                                de los duendes con aguas de cedrón  canelo raspaduras                                                                          

de pehuén estragón de la generosidad                                                                                            tomillo del valor y sangre menstrual que ha abierto                                                                                               el gran túnel de la memoria                                                                                                                            he bajado los Siete Escalones en tierra extraña                                                                                    he luchado contra los Cuarenta Miedos                                                                                                       los Cuarenta Miedos enmascarados con mi propio rostro  me han encarcelado                                                                                                                                                        ¡Oh Poderoso Espíritu de Künultuaen!                                                                                                       ¡Oh Poderoso Espíritu de la Libertad de mis antepasados!                                                         ¡Ayúdame!                                                                                                                                               Mi espíritu prisionero te llama                                                                                                                        los Cuarenta Miedos me han encarcelado y tienen  propio rostro                                                                                                                                                  el  espíritu del retumbar de mi kultrún grabado con tu nombre                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      te llama                                                                                                                                                               los Cuarenta Miedos me han encarcelado                                                                                                      y tienen mi propio rostro                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                el espíritu del fuego y calor de mi fogata te llama                                                                                      los Cuarenta Miedos me han encarcelado                                                                                                      y tienen mi propio rostro                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           el espíritu del piñón noble hijo de la araucaria                                                                                            te llama                                                                                                                                                               los Cuarenta Miedos enmascarados con mi propio rostro                                                                       me han encarcelado                                                                                                                          ¡Yallemai…!

 

                                     

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                                    CANTO SEGUNDO

 

                                                              El vuelo

 

 

¡Yallemai…!                                                                                                                                  cantemos                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           es noche de tormenta los rayos truenos y relámpagos                                                                     quiebran el infinito                                                                                                                                           los Dioses los hijos de los Dioses y los humanos                                                                                          se acarician                                                                                                                                                          el Gran Espíritu de Künultuaen me acaricia                                                                                                 mi padre me lame los ojos                                                                                                                               su rostro gigantesca boa se introduce                                                                                              entre mis  piernas                                                                                                                                                                  el silencio golpea las paredes y la voz aguda                                                                                           de mi abuela La Machi nos invita a comer pedazos de Dios                                                                                en la carne de cuatro gatos                                                                                                                     la ruca arde y el fogón quema                                                                                                                        en un rincón mi hermana remueve su vientre                                                                                      con palillos de plata que expulsan a la bruja                                                                                                        el loco vuela entre los árboles pidiendo a gritos                                                                                       que lo salven del inminente horror de la cordura                                                                                        la zorra entra a la ruca y me mira                                                                                                                 me olfatea                                                                                                                                                                                     me reconoce                                                                                                                                              y me mira                                                                                                                                           desolla mi piel con sus garras de plata y me mira                                                                                      me mira                                                                                                                                                                 y en sus ojos veo a mi abuelo hundir                                                                                                      un largo estilete de plata en el pecho de mi abuela                                                                                                               veo la sangre surgir por entre los pálidos labios                                                                                        

de mi abuela                                                                                                                                        mientras bendice a mi abuelo y le rinde                                                                                                  su última declaración de amor                                                                                                                         la zorra me mira                                                                                                                                                   y en sus ojos veo al hombre cruel golpear el vientre                                                                            preñado de la albina                                                                                                                               mientras la mujer se retuerce colgada de las rejas                                                                                     en espasmos de dolor y da a luz un feto azul                                                                                                la zorra me mira                                                                                                                                                   y veo a mi hermano revolcarse en la cama con otro                                                                        hombre que es él mismo                                                                                                                        aunque por momentos toma el rostro de un ave, un ángel                                                                         o un andrógino mientras que  debajo de la cama asoman                                                                 cabezas de enanos cubiertas con diademas de plata                                                                               que me miran y ríen                                                                                                                                           la zorra me mira                                                                                                                                                   y veo el odre oscuro por el musgo de la humedad                                                                         desbordarse en un torrentoso río que inunda mis pies                                                                           mis piernas mi cuerpo y me arrastra                                                                                                            me arrastra lejos de la ruca                                                                                                                         lejos de mí misma                                                                                                                                                y mientras me sumerjo entre las olas del odre                                                                                     puedo también volar y me transformo en un gigantesco                                                                   pájaro de pico anaranjado que come serpientes                                                                                    las que  al llegar a su garganta se convierten en setas                                                                                                y las setas pasan a través de su garganta                                                                                             que es mi  propia garganta la que se estrecha se estrecha                                                                    se estrecha                                                                                                                                                                                   y entonces ya no es más mi garganta sino un profundo                                                                laberinto de siete túneles abiertos en siete  hasta el infinito                                                            

con paredes cubiertas de arañas por las que resbala                                                                                 un manto de rocío negro que cubre casi por entero                                                                            los altos helechos que crecen entre la humedad de los                                                                         rincones al amparo de los fantasmas                                                                                                               y entre las profundidades del agua-túnel-laberinto                                                                                  veo a la zorra                                                                                                                                             y veo en sus ojos el cuerpo muerto del hombre amado                                                                              y los cuerpos mutilados de los vivos que ocultan                                                               pudorosamente sus miembros mientras arrojan claveles                                                                    rojos sobre las aguas que caen como cataratas sobre                                                                                 la ruca                                                                                                                                                        y la zorra me mira                                                                                                                                                y entre sus fauces veo abierta la Gran Montaña                                                                                          la Montaña Roja del Sueño  cubierta de piedras azules                                                                               y vidrios pedazos de arcoíris donde me encontrara                                                                                 por primera vez al monje que me diera la bienvenida                                                                                al suicidio                                                                                                                                                             al suicidio de la muerte                                                                                                                                      y me doy cuenta que allí está de nuevo                                                                                    esperándome                                                                                                                                                     su ropaje oscuro ha reverdecido sus tatuajes de                                                                               dragones han reverdecido su saliva-animal                                                                                                 ha reverdecido                                                                                                                                                   sin embargo su voz se asemeja extrañamente al canto                                                                             del Hombre-Dios con rostro de malaquita                                                                                               y a la voz  que me ordena todas las madrugadas que ordene a mi                                                                    cuerpo retornar al lugar donde reposan los huesos                                                                              de mis muertos y a la voz de mi abuela la Gran Machi Muerta                                                           que me enseñara el camino de las caracolas                                                                                                     y escucho una voz que es la voz de todos                                                                                                

y es  mi propia voz que me dice                                                                                                 ¡Bienvenida a la vida zorra-alada!                                                                                                              y miro a la zorra a los ojos                                                                                                                                  y me veo a mí misma removiendo los carbones ardientes                                                                         de un brasero de cobre con asas de plata y entre las                                                                         llamas de los carbones las manos de mi amante                                                                          acariciando el fuego                                                                                                                                            y miro a la zorra a los ojos                                                                                                                                                      y me veo entre los brazos de una mujer desdentada que                                                                      ríe mientras yo huelo su sudor a leche fresca                                                                                                y miro a la zorra a los ojos                                                                                                                                  y me veo a mí misma corriendo sin destino por entre                                                                               las araucarias                                                                                                                                                        y todo se oscurece                                                                                                                                               

y siento a mi alrededor la presencia                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     de los Cuarenta  Miedos enmascarados con mi propio rostro                                                                                                  y grito                                                                                                                                                                     y miro a la zorra a los ojos                                                                                                                                  y veo cómo los Cuarenta Miedos tiemblan y caen bajo                                                                               el rayo de mi voz                                                                                                                                                    y veo en los ojos de la zorra los Cuarenta Miedos muertos                                                                                 y de entre ellos emerger mi verdadero rostro                                                                                           y me reconozco en mis ojos de carey, mi pelo de carey                                                                              mi boca de carey                                                                                                                                                  y canto                                                                                                                                                                   y canto porque mi espíritu de libertad se ha unido al                                                                            Gran Espíritu de Libertad                                                                                                                            al Glorioso Künultuaen  Alma Plateada                                                                                                                                                      y canto                                                                                                                                                                   ¡Yallemai…!  

 

 

                                               CANTO TERCERO

 

                                                El encuentro

 

 

¡Yallemai…!                                                                                                                                            ¡Oh Glorioso Künultuaen!                                                                                                                       tu espíritu de libertad se ha unido a mi espíritu de                                                                                libertad tú   y yo somos uno                                                                                                                                                    te suplico baja aquí en este cementerio sagrado                                                                                   en esta tierra sagrada y transforma el duelo de la muerte                                                                             en fiesta de vida en fiesta de fertilidad en gozosa                                                                                 fiesta en próspero Ñillatun                                                                                                                   por ti he caminado los siete caminos                                                                                                     abierto las siete puertas 

 subido las siete montañas                                                                                                                    por amor a ti vengo                                                                                                                                          de muy lejos vengo                                                                                                                                        baja aquí y ordena que tus cuatro hombres-guerreros                                                                         recojan los cuerpos muertos de los Cuarenta Miedos enmascarados                                                                       y los hundan en profunda sepultura                                                                                                           baja aquí que necesito ver tu rostro de libertad                                                                            Huillifucha el Dios Madre del Viento Sur                                                                                                     me ha dicho que este es el lugar sagrado                                                                                       Hullicushe la Diosa Madre del Viento del Sur                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         me ha  dicho que este es el tiempo sagrado                                                                                                              el viaje ha sido largo                                                                                                                                          el espíritu del motemei                                                                                                                                    mi único alimento                                                                                                                                               el espíritu del mudai encerrado por siete siglos en                                                                                        las siete vasijas                                                                                                                                                  mi única bebida                                                                                                                                                  

el espíritu del humo de las hojas elevándose                                                                                               en el cielo                                                                                                                                                           mi única voz para llegar a ti                                                                                                                            por ti y en tu búsqueda he desenterrado a mis muertos                                                                          por ti y en tu búsqueda he abandonado mi tierra                                                                                      por ti y en tu búsqueda he volado sobre las  siete  montañas                                                                mi espíritu te busca                                                                                                                                            la escalera de plata está  izada                                                                                                                          la campanilla de plata te llama                                                                                                                       mi corazón cuelga de los más alto de la escalera de                                                                               plata                                                                                                                                                                       y el sacerdote                                                                                                                                                      el Ñillatufe                                                                                                                                                  anuncia tu llegada                                                                                                                                              la  serpiente asesina huye despavorida

y se sumerge entre las fauces del volcán del gran volcán                                                                              la luna naciente alumbra con reflejos de plata                                                                                 pedazos de luceros caen sobre la tierra 

el reflejo  de plata                                                                                                                                           cae sobre la                                                                                                                                             tierra                                                                                                                                                                     el misterio se abre                                                                                                                                              el metal fecunda la tierra                                                                                                        ¡Bienvenido Glorioso Espíritu de Künultuaen!                                                                                 ¡Bienvenido Espíritu Plateado!                                                                                                                    tienes el rostro del espíritu de Dios                                                                                                              los ojos del espíritu de mi padre                                                                                                                    las manos del espíritu del hombre                                                                                                     ¡Glorioso Künultuaen!                                                                                                                               desata mis pies libra mis manos                                                                                                           

coloca tu mano sabia sobre mi boca                                                                                                    acaricia mi boca                                                                                                                                             besa mi boca                                                                                                                                                         y dame el sagrado espíritu de tu propio espíritu                                                                                   ¡Glorioso Künultuaen!                                                                                                                              gracias por haber abierto la sagrada puerta                                                                                                  la misteriosa puerta                                                                                                                                           la secreta puerta                                                                                                                                                 la buscada y revelada puerta de la libertad                                                                                 ¡Yallemai…!       

 

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